


Mamihlapinatapei

by autumnyte



Series: Boss Alair Cabrera [2]
Category: Saints Row
Genre: M/M, Pre-Relationship, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 16:26:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2116719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumnyte/pseuds/autumnyte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written in response to a prompt from Chyrstis for: "Pierce/Alair and Mamihlapinatapei - The look between two people in which each loves the other but is too afraid to make the first move." </p><p>Set during the night of the Boss's Presidental Election.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mamihlapinatapei

Alair paced around the makeshift green room alone, buzzing with nervous energy. The live election coverage had proved too nerve-wracking to watch, and he’d snuck off to wait it out by himself. Through the air wall partition, he could hear occasional bursts of raucous cheers erupting from the crowd gathered in the room next door, and the bursts seemed to be increasing in frequency and duration.

That had to be a good sign, right? 

Breathing deeply, he loosened the pale blue tie around his neck just a smidgen and smoothed fingers over his carefully combed hair. Thankfully, his navy suit and white dress shirt hadn’t begun to chafe yet, despite the fact that he’d been sweating in them for hours. 

As he give the large, silver coffee urn a sideways glance and debated whether drinking straight from the spout at this time of night would be a good idea or the best idea, he heard a loud knock at the door. “You in there, Boss?” 

"Hell, yeah." The door flew open and Pierce rushed in, breathless. "It’s over. All the major networks just about to call it."

“ _And_?”

Pierce grinned and leaned in, dapping him up. ”Congratulations, man.” 

Unable to restrain himself, Alair pulled Pierce into a full hug, and when the gesture was reciprocated, he held on for longer than necessary.

"I could never have done this without you," he mumbled, slowly withdrawing from the embrace.

Pierce laughed. “Yeah, no shit.” 

"No, I mean it," Alair said, and placed a hand on Pierce’s shoulder. "It’s been a fucked up ride, especially the past few months. But you always…  I mean… ah, _fuck_.  I’m trying to say thanks. For everything.” 

Their eyes met, and something unexpected in the intensity of Pierce’s gaze made Alair’s gut twist. Pierce opened his mouth as if to say something, but bit his lip instead. 

A brief silence passed between them, and Pierce cleared his throat. ”So, how long you need before you’re ready to deliver the victory speech? I’ll get the word out.”

Alair exhaled slowly as the reality of the situation began to sink in a bit further. “Um… twenty minutes? Can you send in the makeup people?”

"You got it. I’m here for whatever you need"—Pierce smiled and straightened Alair’s tie—"Mr. President-elect." 

Alair swallowed thickly as he watched him turn and walk away. For the barest moment, he allowed his thoughts to linger on Pierce. And on what it was he truly  _wanted,_ instead of all the other bullshit he knew he  _needed_. But that was dangerous territory to tread, now more than ever, so he forced the thought aside after one glorious moment of indulging it—just like always.  


End file.
